An April morning—
 
finches and sparrows bless me
 
with their waking songs.

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Owl

 
 
 

Owl in my oak tree,
 
have you nothing to give me
 
but your mournful song?

Song

 
 
 

A song in the air—
 
notes I’ve never heard before
 
fly from my plum tree.

Singing

 
 
 

What are they singing,
 
the corn, the wind, and the geese?
 
This is a new song!

Balance

 
 
 

Blackbird, O blackbird,
 
how do you balance your song
 
on that falling leaf?

River

 
 
 

Little brown sparrow,
 
the river is depleted,
 
but your song flows on.

Song

 
 
 

Little brown sparrow,
 
near the old water bucket
 
you strike up your song.